


home and hearth

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Multi, falling in love with your boyfriend's (sort of) ex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 23:17:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13110576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: Fero returns to Rosemerrow without Lem. Emmanuel takes him in.





	home and hearth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [madelinestarr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/madelinestarr/gifts).



> Set during the endgame of WiH, and unbeta'd
> 
> for maddie - merry christmas maddie, I love you very much

Emmanuel awoke to a knock at his door. It was late (or… was it late? It was hard to know, without the sun, even though it had been months now since it disappeared).

 

There was another knock, less tentative this time. Emmanuel sighed, pushing himself out of bed. It least he knew it couldn’t be Ordennan soldiers - they’d have kicked the door down without so much as a knock. He wasn’t expecting anyone. Well, anyone except… no. It couldn’t be. If Lem had been on his way back he would have sent a letter ahead of him. He was absolutely incapable of keeping that sort of thing to himself.

 

Emmanuel smiled to himself as he walked to the door, thinking of Lem’s excited tone of voice in his last letter, burbling over at the idea of returning home. Just as soon as he finished what he had to do at the Archives, he promised. 

 

He pushed opened the door, giving it extra force as it stuck a little in the frame. 

 

The person at the door was not Lem. It was Fero.

 

The last time Emmanuel had seen him had been right before Lem’s group had left, when he’d pulled Fero aside and asked him to keep an eye on Lem for him. He might not have spoken to Fero much, but from what Lem had told him, he’d thought he could probably trust Fero to pull Lem out of trouble whenever he wandered into it.

 

Fero looked much more ragged than when Emmanuel had last seen him, twigs sticking out of his hair and clothes and scratches on his cheek as if he had crawled through bushes to get to Emmanuel’s doorstep. He didn’t seem to have brought anything with him other than his pack and a wilting potted plant.

 

Emmanuel’s throat felt tight. He recognised the plant - it was Lem’s.

 

“I’m sorry,” said Fero, his voice cracking, “we were there and he left me behind, and I couldn’t get out and then he wasn’t listening and then he just  _ disappeared _ and I… I couldn’t, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I don’t know where he is, I’m sorry.”

 

Fero was shaking, the pot almost slipping from his hands. Emmanuel bent down to catch it, pulling it easily from Fero’s arms. Fero stumbled a little on his feet, leaning against Emmanuel for a moment. He felt very cold.

 

“Perhaps you’d better come in,” Emmanuel murmured.

 

He guided Fero inside, pushing him towards a chair. Fero looked down at the pot in his hands, his shoulder still trembling. 

 

“Wait here,” said Emmanuel.

 

He kept his voice soft. Fero seemed to need it, only giving a small nod as Emmanuel left the room. 

 

Emmanuel got one of the blankets from his bed, a soft grey blanket he'd taken on ship journeys with Brandish, one of the few things he'd been able to bring from his home when he’d fled. It had been warm enough for him during storms at sea, hopefully it would be enough to bring some colour back to Fero's cheeks. Emmanuel didn't know Fero all that well, but the times he had seen him he'd been full of life, most bursting with it, fluttering around, tugging on Lem's shirtsleeve or asking questions. Even during the trial he'd been buzzing with energy, bouncing from one side of the courtroom to the other as he made his speeches. 

 

Fero hadn't moved when Emmanuel returned, shoulders bowed slightly as though he was still shielding the plant from the wind. 

 

“Sit,” said Emmanuel gently. 

 

Fero carefully climbed into the chair, keeping the plant on his lap. Emmanuel draped the blanket around his shoulders. He let his hand rest on Fero's shoulder for a moment before he began to make tea. 

 

Fero stayed quiet and still, but at least he's stopped shaking by the time Emmanuel put a mug in front of him. He blinked up at Emmanuel. 

 

“Drink,” said Emmanuel. 

 

Fero did, his small hands wrapping around the steaming mug. Emmanuel waited. Lem was a little like this sometimes -- not so quiet, but there was an aspect of waiting for him before you could ask him anything, of letting him process things first. With Lem it was best to let him talk himself out -- perhaps ordinarily Fero would have been the same. 

 

“Do you want some water?” said Emmanuel. When Fero looked up, he added, “for your plant.”

 

“Oh,” said Fero. He looked down again, tracing one of the wilting leaves with his finger. “Maybe I--” He took a shuddering breath. “I don't know. Lem gave me a chance to look after it but it-- I did something wrong and then he wouldn't let me and… and… I don't know. I think it's dying. I don't know--” Another shuddering breath “--what to do.”

 

Emmanuel took a deep breath, careful not to give any sign that he noticed the teardrops falling onto the plant as Fero clutched at it. 

 

“Well,” said Emmanuel, “I don't know much about plants, but let's start with water and then see how we go.”

 

He dunked a tin cup into the water bucket he kept next to the sink, gesturing for Fero to put the plant on the table. He hesitated for a moment, then held the cup out to Fero. 

 

“Here.”

 

“Are you sure?” said Fero, “I don't know if Lem would want me to.”

 

There was a new twist to his tone, anger over a raw hurt. 

 

“The plant can't wait until Lem gets back,” said Emmanuel.

 

Fero swallowed. “I guess.”

 

Emmanuel gathered their mugs and put them next to the sink to give Fero the pretence of privacy. He could hear Fero take a few deep breaths in and out. When he turned around, Fero was looking down at the plant, touching the drooping leaves gently with one finger.

 

“I… think it was the right thing to do?” said Fero, “it sounds happier.”

 

“ _ Sounds _ … You can talk to plants?” said Emmanuel. 

 

“Oh,” said Fero, “yeah, I um, picked it up sort of recently? They don't talk back with words, but you get the general idea of things.”

 

“Then you should definitely be the one to take care of the plant,” said Emmanuel. 

 

Fero gave him a small smile. It wasn't anything like the bright grins Emmanuel had seen on him in the past, but it was something at least. Fero's smile faded as he looked back down at the plant. 

 

“I failed that too,” said Fero, “Lem asked me to help him with it and now it's dying.”

 

Emmanuel pushed the tin cup of water a little closer to Fero. “It's not dead yet. Sometimes these things are hardier than you think.”

 

Fero took a deep breath, carefully setting the plant down on the table in front of him. His hand shook a little as he poured the water onto the plant's dry soil. 

 

“I should probably get going,” said Fero, still looking down at the plant. 

 

“Where will you go?”

 

Fero shrugged. 

 

Emmanuel carefully looked Fero over, taking note of the torn patches of his clothing and the dark circles under his eyes, the line of tension in his shoulders and the way his hand trembled as he set the cup down on the table. 

 

“You must have travelled a long way to get here,” said Emmanuel, picking his words carefully, “perhaps you should rest here before you continue on.”

 

Fero's head snapped up. “Here?”

 

Emmanuel smiled. “I have only one home to offer, although I'm sure it doesn't measure up to the grandeur of the Archives.”

 

Fero wrinkled his nose. “Nah, this place is way better.”

 

Emmanuel raised his eyebrows. The apartment he'd secured certainly wasn't one of the worst the Nacre refugees had been shuffled into, but it wasn't exactly luxurious. The worn carvings around the window frames and the colour of the old chips of faded paint flaking off the walls suggested it had been once, but Emmanuel lacked both the time and the money to make it so again. 

 

He felt a stab of worry for Lem. He hoped Fero was exaggerating. 

 

“Well then,” said Emmanuel, “you're welcome to stay here. I'm afraid I only have the one bed, but I shared often enough on Brandish’s ship and I’m sure that you’re a much better bunkmate.”

 

Fero shrugged. “Sure. It's warmer that way anyway.”

 

Before they left the kitchen, Fero took a scarf from his bag, wrapping it around the plant pot. He patted the side of it once, the way you might pat someone on the shoulder, a wordless goodnight. Emmanuel turned away, hiding a smile. 

 

He led Fero through to the bedroom, suppressing a sigh at the state of it. It was a little untidy, but mostly it was in the same state as the rest of the apartment, a spiderweb of cracks snaking up the walls and flakes of paint the Emmanuel hadn't had the energy to clear away.

 

It was only him there normally, so what did it matter? And the time Lem  _ had  _ been there, well. They'd kept each other much too occupied to notice something like that. 

 

The bed swayed a little as Fero sat down on it, and Emmanuel steadied it with his hand. He thought longingly of his bed in Nacre, now probably burnt to cinders, made of thick oak with fruit trees carved into the headboard, beautiful and old in the way that all things in Nacre were beautiful and old. Ah well, thought Emmanuel, trying to shake himself out of it, he had survived at least. He could always try to find things that felt like home. Hieron was, after all, a much bigger place than Nacre. 

 

“Sorry,” said Emmanuel, “I think one of the nails has come loose. It came with the apartment and, well…”

 

He gestured around the room. 

 

“It's fine,” said Fero, “It’s warmer in here than the forest at the moment.”

 

He flopped back, wriggling in the sheets for a moment before he curled up on his side. He took up almost the same amount of room as the pillow. 

 

Emmanuel tentative sat on the other side of the bed. It had handled the weight and motion of him and Lem, but you never knew. The bed creaked but stayed standing, and Emmanuel let out a breath of relief, lying down next to Fero. He pulled the covers around himself, raising a hand to pull them more over Fero before he thought better of it.

 

“Goodnight,” said Emmanuel softly.

 

“Night,” said Fero, his voice muffled from where his face was pressed against the mattress.

 

Emmanuel drifted off slowly. He found the cold difficult to get used to after so long in Nacre. It wasn’t so bad at work, rushing around next to a hot oven, but at night he felt like the cold seeped through the blankets into his bones.

 

He felt as though he’d only been asleep for a short while when the chime of his work timer sounded. Emmanuel reach over and covered the small device, muffling the sound for a moment before he switched it off. He looked over to see if the sound had woken Fero - it didn’t look as though it had, Fero was still curled into the same position he’d been in when he went to sleep.

 

Emmanuel got up slowly, feeling his way as quietly as possible across the room to gather his work clothes. He eased open the door, wincing as it creaked.

 

“Don’t go,” murmured Fero.

 

Emmanuel froze, looking back at Fero. He still seemed asleep.

 

“Don’t go Lem,” said Fero, brow furrowing in his sleep.

 

In the dim light from the doorway, Emmanuel could see Fero’s cheeks were wet.

 

Emmanuel pressed his lips together, hesitating for a moment before he stepped out, closing the door carefully behind him.

 

\--

 

His work day was long, as usual, the bustle of the cafe keeping him busy from hours before opening to well after closing. He was glad for the extra coin, and his work ethic seemed to encourage the owners to turn a blind eye (or, a blind ear) to his accent.

 

Emmanuel took to long way home, distributing the day’s leftovers to people who needed it. It began to snow as he reached his street, and Emmanuel hurried along, dodging missing flagstones and puddles of half-melted snow. He paused when he reached his doorway. There was a light coming from inside, bright and cheerful and definitely not left by him when he’d rushed out of the house that morning.

 

The door was still locked, just as he’d left it that morning. He tentative pushed it open.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hey, hi, I’m in here.”

 

Fero was in his bedroom, a small collection of tools spread around him. The mattress and blankets had been thrown to one side of the room, the bed pulled out from against the wall. There were wood shavings everywhere, including in Fero’s hair.

 

He held his hands up as Emmanuel entered. “I’m finishing up I swear.”

 

“Finishing up  _ what _ ?”

 

“The bed,” said Fero, “you said you thought a nail come loose -- you were absolutely right by the way, good eye -- and then I noticed the legs weren’t level so I thought I’d fix that up too, and then a couple of springs looked like they were about to make a break for it and I couldn’t just leave it like  _ that _ \--” Fero broke up, cheeks flushing slightly. “I meant to have it done and be out of here before you got back but I uh, I guess I kind of lost track of the time.”

 

Emmanuel put a hand on the bed frame. It stayed solid under his hand, not even the smallest hint of swaying.

 

“Lem didn't mention you were a carpenter,” said Emmanuel.

 

“I'm not,” said Fero, “but I've built beds before. Fixing them is pretty easy in comparison.”

 

Fero stood, hesitating over his tools before he began to slowly gathering them. He kept glancing back at Emmanuel, as though he was waiting for something.

 

“I, uh, I can't pay you,” said Emmanuel.

 

Fero blinked. “I… you don't need to? This was like, a favour, they have those in Nacre, right?”

 

Emmanuel huffed a laugh. “I suppose we do.” He paused. His throat felt tight. “Did.”

 

He stepped around Fero, busying himself with pulling the mattress back onto the bed frame. He started as Fero stepped beside him, helping him push the mattress back into place.

 

“Thank you,” said Emmanuel, “and thank you for fixing the bed. I don’t know if I said.”

 

Fero waved a hand. “It was nothing. Thanks for letting me stay here last night.”

 

“It was no trouble,” said Emmanuel, “Any friend of Lem’s is a friend of mine.”

 

Fero looked down at his feet. “Right.” He picked up his pack and swinging it onto his shoulder. “Well. I hope they’re as nice in the next place I go.”

 

“Oh,” said Emmanuel, “where are you going?”

 

Fero shugged. “Dunno. See where the wind takes me, I guess?”

 

Outside, the wind howled. It did not sound as though it would be particularly nice.

 

“You can stay another night if you like?” offered Emmanuel.

 

Fero shuffled his feet. “Nah, I… I mean, I don’t want to just stay and leech off you until Lem--” He swallowed hard.. “Until Lem gets back. Better get going.”

 

Fero turned to go. Emanuel could hear the sound of heavy rain start against the windows.

 

“Wait,” said Emmanuel, “The door.”

 

Fero frowned, looking back at Emmanuel and then up at the bedroom door. “The door?”

 

“Not this door, the front door,” said Emmanuel, “It sticks sometimes, I think there's something wrong with the hinges, and I-- would you be able to fix it before you leave?”

 

“Sure,” said Fero, setting down his pack and starting to pull his tools out, “I can take a look at that.”

 

“Thank you,” said Emmanuel, “It can wait until tomorrow if you like. They say the winds supposed to calm down by then.”

 

Fero hesitated for a moment, then put his tools back down. “Sure, okay.”

 

“Good,” said Emmanuel, “Now, Lem mentioned that you don’t eat but I certainly do. Would you like a cup of tea while  _ I _ eat?”

 

Fero laughed. “Sure, I guess.”

 

Fero was a little more animated than he had been the night before, but still a lot quieter than Emmanuel would have thought from Lem’s descriptions. As he spoke, he tapped his fingers against the plant pot, occasionally passing on messages from the plant. Emmanuel couldn’t tell if he was joking, but both the plant an Fero seemed in better shape that they’d been in when they arrived so Emmanuel was more than willing to let a little teasing slide.

 

He trailed after Emmanuel as he prepared for bed, curling into a ball on Emmanuel’s bed the way he had the night before as he went to sleep. Emmanuel watched the soft motion of his breaths in the moonlight until his eyes were too heavy to keep open.

 

\--

 

After the door, there was the cracked window ledge, mended with ease (and paint Fero found under the sink).

 

And after that it was the pipes, for which Fero bravely ventured out of the apartment and into the cold of Rosemerrow and returned red-cheeked and cheerful and spent the rest of the next two days under the kitchen sink.

 

And after _that_ , Emmanuel came home to find Fero slowly chipping away at the carvings on the window frame.

 

“I thought I'd make it so you can actually see what they are,” said Fero, cheeks flushing faintly, “I, um, I thought you might like it?”

Emmanuel smiled, looking up at the design of twisting vines taking shape. “I would like that. I'll put the kettle on.”

 

\--

 

Mostly, Fero slept deeply, unmoving and silent in a way that spoke of a deep exhaustion he never showed during the day. He curled up and fell asleep, sometimes before even pulling the blankets over himself. Emmanuel wondered if, being from Hieron, he felt the cold less, or if it was related somehow to whatever ability let him speak to plants and turn into creatures.

 

The more mundane option, that he didn’t feel the cold because he was too tired to focus on it, was one Emmanuel tried not to think about too much. He wasn’t sure what, exactly, Fero got up to while he was at work, but he tried to get Fero to put down his tools and  _ rest _ when he could, even if Fero complained that doing so meant whatever he was currently working on would take  _ much _ longer and surely Emmanuel  _ must _ be getting sick of him by now.

 

Emmanuel was  _ not _ getting sick of him. It was actually quite nice to have someone to greet him as he stepped through the door with a cheerful grin and an exaggerated tale about what happened at the market when he went to buy more nails to fix the kitchen cabinet (“What it  _ really _ needs is new doors entirely and I think I’ve found a way to track them down.” “You really don’t have to do that Fero, just fixing them is enough.” “Yeah, but it’s not  _ actually _ done, so.”). Emmanuel stopped looking forward to getting out of the apartment and began to actually look forward to returning to his small, shabby apartment, which looked less shabby every day Fero worked on it.

 

The only thing Fero couldn’t seem to fix perfectly was the plant. While it was doing much better than it had been when Fero arrived, it still drooped a little, it’s leaves sagging on it’s small branches.

 

”I think the main problem,” said Emmanuel, “is that there's no sun, and you can't do much about that from here.”

 

Fero hummed, tapping his fingers on the table. “Maybe.”

 

Emmanuel huffed a laugh. He was getting to know that  _ particular _ Fero tone fairly well. It had led to some of the more complex restorations around the apartment, including one instance of Fero  _ almost _ getting stuck in a crawl space that led to the roof (or, rather, that Fero  _ thought _ led to the roof. Emmanuel was not convinced that it actually did).

 

Fero stayed up a little later than he normally, still chatting to the plant in the kitchen when Emmanuel went to bed. Emmanuel smiled to himself as Fero’s laugh drifted from the other room. It might not be as good as the sun, but the plant always looked better on night when Fero would talk to it, the leaves almost glossy and bright. Fero always looked brighter too, his smiles coming more easily the next day -- not as good as the sun, but still a warming sight.

 

\--

 

A sound woke Emmanuel. He sat up slowly, mindful not to wake Fero, and looked slowly around the room. Fero’s daggers were in his pack on the corner, but the kitchen knife in Emmanuel’s bed-side table was closer.

 

The sound came again, close to him. 

 

Emmanuel looked down at Fero. Fero’s shoulder shook, the sound muffled from where his face was pillowed in his arms.

 

_ Oh _ , thought Emmanuel. His chest felt tight.

 

“Fero?” whispered Emmanuel.

 

Fero’s shoulders shook again, another muffled sob in the darkness. Emmanuel reached out and tentatively put a hand on Fero’s back, keeping his touch light just in case Fero  _ was _ still asleep.

 

“It’s alright Fero,” said Emmanuel, his tone sounding a great deal calmer than he felt, “Everything’s fine. I’m right here.”

 

Fero took in a shuddering breath, calming under his touch. He made a soft sound in his sleep, nuzzling his face into his arms before he settled again. Emmanuel’s chest ached, and he felt a rush of need to pull Fero into his arms, to reassure him in earnest. The hand of Fero’s back was the most they had ever touched, and Fero was always so careful to curl himself into a ball on the edge of the bed furthest from Emmanuel, so to push any further than this simple touch felt like he was crossing a boundary Fero had very clearly set up. 

 

Instead, Emmanuel kept his hand on Fero’s back, feeling the rise and fall of Fero’s slow breaths as Fero drifted back into restful sleep.

 

Fero was gone the next morning when Emmanuel woke up, and he felt a stab of worry in his chest before he saw the scrawled note in the kitchen, tucked under the plant pot.

 

_ I have an idea about making a sun for the plant see you tonight have a good day at work _

 

Emmanuel smiled, tucking the note into the pocket of his apron.

 

\--

 

The idea for making a sun, which only seemed to half make sense when Fero explained it to him, took much longer than Fero anticipated. Not so much in the building part, Fero seemed just as adept at putting together small gears as he was a refitting the doors on Emmanuel’s kitchen cupboards. It was the  _ finding _ of parts that seemed to be the most difficult. Or, no, not  _ finding _ , but getting them.

 

Fero travelled around Emmanuel’s neighbourhood, peering in people’s windows or looking through piles of metal scraps until he found whatever it was he needed. Sometimes people gave it freely (especially if it had come out of a scrap pile), but other times they wanted something in trade.

 

Luckily, their apartments were in the same state Emmanuel’s had been before Fero arrived.

 

It was funny, walking home through his neighbourhood now, Emmanuel could see which houses Fero had visited - those houses had newly painted doors, or repaired window frames, or patched-up rain gutters. Some houses looked the same from the outside, but Emmanuel could still tell Fero had been through there - the people inside always looked warmer, less tired.

 

Looking through the window of his own patched-up apartment, Emmanuel knew the feeling well.

 

“Hey, hi!” said Fero, as Emmanuel stepped through the door, “Guess what!”

 

Fero was bouncing on the balls of his feet, beaming up at him.

 

Emmanuel smiled. “I couldn’t even begin to guess.”

 

“It’s finished!” said Fero, “And it’s working! Or, I think it’s working. It’s doing what I thought it would do.”

 

“What’s-- your sun?”

 

“Yeah!” said Fero, grabbing Emmanuel’s hand and pulling him towards the kitchen, “Yeah, come on!”

 

On the kitchen table, next to the plant was a… well. It looked a bit like a meat grinder, with a bright white light shining down on the plant emanating from where the meat would have come out. Thick metal cords wrapped around the wide stand, leading to a rusted crank. It made a faint humming sound.

 

“Well,” said Fero, “what do you think?”

 

“It’s… not what I expected,” said Emmanuel, “although I’m not sure what I  _ did _ expect when you said you were making your own sun.”

 

Fero’s smile faltered. “Didn’t think I could do it huh?”

 

“No,” said Emmanuel, “I knew you could. It’s just hard to imagine the sun indoors.”

 

“Oh,” said Fero, softly. He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Uh. Here it is! I’ve had it on most of this afternoon but I guess it’ll probably take a little bit to see if it works.”

 

“I’m sure it will,” said Emmanuel.

 

Fero’s cheeks flushed pink. “Thanks, um, I.... thanks. D’you want a cup of tea?”

 

“I would actually,” said Emmanuel.

 

Emmanuel sat down next to the plant, and tentatively put his hand under the light. It felt a little warm, not the deep heat of the summer sun, more like a gentle breeze, warm from the afternoon. He closed his eyes for a moment, only opening them again at the sharp whistle of the kettle.

 

“The sun indoors,” murmured Emmanuel, looking over the machine again.

 

Fero slid the mug across the table to him, steam rising from it. He sat across from Emmanuel, fiddling with his own mug. His cheeks were still a little pink. Emmanuel wondered if his matched.

 

“So,” said Emmanuel, “apart from creating a small personal sun, what else did you do today?”

 

Fero laughed. “ _ Well _ .”

 

Fero chattered about his trip to the markets (“eggs have gone up  _ again _ , can you believe it, if you own a chicken in Rosemerrow you must be set for life”) and Emmanuel listened, sipping the mug of tea and resting back in his chair, warmth spreading through him. The plant sat in-between them, its leaves lit by the lamp. If Emmanuel focussed, he could almost have sworn the leaves were already lifting up a little, towards the light.

 

This place wasn’t anything like his small apartment in Nacre, but Emmanuel was starting to like it all the same.

 

\--

 

The plant grew, slowly but surely, standing straight in the pot and the colour coming back to its leaves. Fero woke Emmanuel up one morning, earlier than he would have liked on one of his rare days off. Any annoyance he felt melted under Fero’s bright smile.

 

“Wake up,” said Fero, “You’ve gotta come take a look at this!”

 

Emmanuel let himself be pulled out of bed to the kitchen, smiling at the bounce in Fero’s step.

 

“Look!” said Fero, gesturing to the plant, “it’s got new leaves!”

 

Emmanuel leaned closer to the plant. There were, in fact, a few new leaves -- bright green and very small, but unmistakable as new growth. He turned back to Fero, who was looking at him expectantly.

 

“That sun light you made has really done is job,” said Emmanuel.

 

Fero’s cheeks flushed. “Well. I mean. The new leaves are mostly the plant’s doing. I just, you know. Helped.”

 

“I can’t speak for the plant,” said Emmanuel, “but I’m sure if you asked it, it would say the same as me.”

 

Fero smiled, ducking his head. “I guess.”

 

“You might guess but I  _ know _ ,” said Emmanuel, ignoring the faint flush of heat to his own cheeks. “You really--”

 

_ Knock knock knock _ .

 

Emmanuel’s voice stuttered to a stop. He as Fero looked at each other for a moment. It was still early morning, the street outside quiet and still aside from the knocking. He hadn’t heard of any Ordennan raids recently, but all raids had to start somewhere. Emmanuel pressed his lips together. Fero wordlessly reached into the sink and pulled out the large metal skillet that Emmanuel had been soaking there.

 

“Maybe they’ll go away?” whispered Emmanuel.

 

_ Knock knock knock knockknockknockknock _

 

“Yeah,” said Fero, “I don’t think that’s happening.”

 

Emmanuel sighed. “Don’t do anything rash.”

 

“Who, me?” said Fero.

 

Despite the thudding of his heart in his chest, Emmanuel smiled. He took a deep breath, unlocked the door, then opened it.

 

“Lem?”

 

“Emmanuel! Hello! I, um, hello!”

 

Lem smiled shyly down at him. His clothes were a little more travel-worn than when Emmanuel had last seen him, but his smile was the same, the look in his eyes was the same. A few snowflakes had caught in his hair, giving him almost a shimmering halo in the moonlight.

 

Emmanuel stepped towards him and Lem opened his arms, dropping his pack to the ground to slide his arms around Emmanuel’s sides, pulling him close. Despite the cold air, his body felt warm. Emmanuel leant into him, sighing as Lem bent a little to bring their lips together.

 

His kiss was the same as it was in Emmanuel’s memory too, tentativeness sliding into heat until they were both panting.

 

“How long are you back for?” said Emmanuel.

 

“I don’t know,” said Lem, “Not long, I think? The others want to keep moving after we regroup a bit, so we can stop-- well, there’s just a lot going on, and-- is that my plant?”

 

Emmanuel blinked, looking over his shoulder. “Yes, Fero brought it when he--”

 

He felt Lem tense against him. 

 

“Fero? Fero was here?”

 

Emmanuel frowned. “He still  _ is  _ here.”

 

Lem leaned back from the doorway, as though he was trying not to be seen.

 

Emmanuel put a hand on Lem’s chest. “Lem?”

 

Lem let out a breath. “It’s nothing.” He paused. “It’s just that last time we saw each other, he-- yelled. And then I… And I haven’t seen him since, so he’s probably still…”

 

Emmanuel thought of the nights where Fero would cry out in his sleep, shoulders shaking as he mumbled Lem’s name.

 

“I am sure whatever the trouble was, it has passed,” said Emmanuel, tugging on Lem’s hand to lead him inside, “Come on.”

 

He could hear the sound of Fero in the bedroom.

 

Lem’s steps stuttered to a stop. “Maybe I should… I think I should stay out here. Just in case?”

 

Emmanuel sighed, but still, he wasn’t about to deny Lem something after they been apart for so long. “Don’t go anywhere.”

 

Lem smiled. “Never.”

 

Emmanuel leant up, kissing his cheek before he stepped away, moving towards the bedroom.

 

Fero was stuffing things into his pack. He didn’t look up as Emmanuel entered, the only acknowledgement Fero gave was the roll of tension through his shoulders.

 

“Lem’s here,” said Emmanuel, feeling somewhat at a loss for words.

 

“Yeah,” said Fero, “I saw. Guess I’d really better be going now, huh?”

 

Emmanuel’s chest felt tight. “You don’t have to.”

 

Fero sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I kind of do, I mean, the last time I saw him we… and I was so…”

 

“Yes,” said Emmanuel wrly, “Lem said as much.”

 

Fero huffed a breath. “Yeah. So. He probably doesn’t want to see me any more than I want to see him right now.” He swung his pack onto his shoulder. “So I’d better get out of here before I ruin your reunion.”

 

Emmanuel crouched, putting his hand over Fero's where he was clutching the strap of his pack. “Fero. I love Lem dearly, but you are my guest, and if he has an issue with you staying here, there he can get a room at an inn and I will visit him there.”

 

“Oh,” said Fero. He opened his mouth as though he had more to say, then shut it, his lips pressed together. 

 

Emmanuel could feel Fero's hand trembling under his, but it was impossible to tell whether it was nerves or simply Fero's normal amount of high energy preventing him from being still. 

 

“You are free to leave if you wish, but I would not send you out on the street simply to have Lem in my bed,” said Emmanuel. 

 

“That's… you're very kind Emmanuel,” said Fero, “more than you should be, probably.”

 

Emmanuel smiled, squeezing Fero's hand once before he leant back. “Oh, undoubtedly. I am sure it will be my undoing in the end.”

 

Emmanuel traced the smile Fero gave him in return slowly, committing it to memory. There were other things not yet spoken of that would be his undoing too. 

 

Fero took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly. “Okay.”

 

He set down his pack. On impulse, Emmanuel reached out and squeezed Fero’s hand.

 

“It’s going to be fine,” said Emmanuel, “Surely whatever it was has passed by now.”

 

“I don’t know about  _ that _ ,” said Fero, “But I’ll be on my best behaviour if he will.”

 

Emmanuel smiled. “I’m sure he will be.”

 

The day was… perhaps a little more tense than Emmanuel had expected, but nowhere near as terrible as Lem and Fero apparently expected. They were both oddly quiet, with occasional moments where one of them would begin to talk, chattering on about something until they remembered the other was there and their voice would peter out. 

 

More tense was when they decided to turn in for the night, Lem’s eyes widening as he looked at Fero’s pack in the corner of the room.

 

“He’s been sleeping here?”

 

“I already told you as much,” said Emmanuel, turning his attention to shaking out the blankets.

 

“No, but--” Lem made a strained sound, “He’s been sleeping  _ here _ ?”

 

Emmanuel didn’t turn around, not sure of the expression on his face. “He doesn’t take up much room, as I’m sure you know.”

 

“What’s  _ that _ supposed to mean?”

 

“I’m sure you’ve seen him asleep once of twice since travelling together,” said Emmanuel, “what else would I mean?”

 

“Oh. Yes. Right. Well,” said Lem.

 

Emmanuel glanced up at him. His cheeks were flushed a deep green, hands fiddling with out of the toggles on his shirt. Emmanuel stepped closer to him, closing his hand around Lem’s.

 

“It’s not that much a problem, is it?” said Emmanuel.

 

Lem sighed. “I guess not. But I still don’t… He’s really been staying here all this time?”

 

“Yes,” said  Emmanuel, “He’s been fixing things for me. And for other people too, I suppose, but mostly for me.”

 

“Fixing things?”

 

Emmanuel hummed, then laughed. “You really  _ didn’t _ notice much about how this place looked last time, did you?”

 

Lem blushed again. “Well, I-- You were very-- How could I notice on anything else?”

 

Emmanuel smiled, leaning up to kiss him.

 

“Whoa! Sorry!”

 

Emmanuel looked over to Fero in the doorway. He had a hand covering his face. Emmanuel rolled his eyes.

 

“I am sure it’s not anything you haven’t seen before,” said Emmanuel.

 

Lem made a choked-off sound.

 

“I think I'm just going to… go sleep somewhere else,” said Fero, still covering his face. 

 

“Fero--” said Emmanuel. 

 

“Sounds great,” said Lem, “See you tomorrow.”

 

Fero looked up sharply. “Tomorrow?”

 

“Oh,” said Lem, “is that not--”

 

“No, absolutely, sure, tomorrow,” said Fero hurriedly, “Good night.”

 

He pulled the door shut behind him. 

 

“Good night,” said Emmanuel, to the door. He turned to Lem, his hand still resting on Lem’s chest. “You didn't have to--”

 

Lem cut him off with a kiss, sliding his hands down Emmanuel's body and lifting him up so their faces were at the same height. Emmanuel felt a thrill at how easily Lem lifted him, shivering as he ran his hands along Lem's braid, undoing it as he went. Lem sighed. 

 

“Sorry,” said Lem, after they broke apart, “what were you saying?”

 

“It can wait,” said Emmanuel, leaning back towards Lem. 

 

“Right,” said Lem, “Right, if you-- _ oh… _ ”

 

They were much too busy for talking after that. 

 

\--

 

The bed held up masterfully. 

 

\--

 

The next few days that followed reminded Emmanuel of long-ago schoolroom lessons on history, of warring tribes tentatively making peace in the face of a greater goal. 

 

Lem and Fero wouldn't immediately leave the room if the other entered but it was a near thing, both of them tensing up, not quite able to look each other in the eye. Each night ended the same, Fero trailing after them both to the bedroom before stumbling over his words and shutting the door. Sometimes, Emmanuel would catch Lem's blush before he could be properly distracted and he would wonder, just for a moment, if Lem was as against the idea of Fero sleeping there as he had been on that first night. 

 

He wasn't sure where Fero was sleeping. His pack stayed tucked under the chair in the bedroom and didn't seem as though it had been moved, and Fero was always waiting for him in the kitchen every morning, his voice soft as he spoke to the plant. 

 

“I think it might be growing flowers,” said Fero one morning, face close to a new cluster of foliage. 

 

“It will be nice to see flowers again,” said Emmanuel, “does it know what kind?”

 

Fero tilted his head, frowning for a moment. “I don't think so? It's never flowered before.”

 

“Then it will be a new experience for all of us,” said Emmanuel. 

 

Fero hummed, pleased, and began to pour water onto the soil. 

 

“What are you  _ doing _ ?” said Lem from the doorway. 

 

Fero froze, the water spilling into the table. 

 

Lem looked at Emmanuel, suddenly sheepish. “Sorry, I-- I told him not to touch the plant after the first time.”

 

“And  _ I  _ told him that since he can talk to plants, he should be the one taking care of it,” said Emmanuel calmly. “If Fero hadn't looked after it, I'm sure it would be dead.”

 

“Well, I,” Lem stumbled a little over his words, “I'm sure you would have been fine at it.”

 

“Maybe, but I don't think I could have built a sun lamp,” said Emmanuel. 

 

Lem paused, looking down at Fero. “You built this?”

 

“Yes,” said Fero, his tone defensive, “And it's working great.”

 

“I didn't know you could build something like that,” said Lem. He added, in a softer voice, “I didn't even know you'd taken the plant with you. When it wasn't at the Archives when I got back I sort of assumed it had, you know, died.”

 

Fero swallowed. “Yeah, well. I knew the plant was important and those knucklehead Archivists don't know the first thing about plant care. I couldn't just leave it behind.”

 

Lem reached out and gently touched one of the new leaves. “I didn't mean to leave it behind. I wish I hadn't.”

 

“Yeah, well, you did.”

 

“I know,” said Lem, “do you think, um, do you think the plant will ever forgive me for it?”

 

Fero bit his lip. “Maybe.” He looked up at Lem. “I… it's good you're back. I think it missed you.”

 

Emmanuel quietly stepped back out of the room, taking a deep breath as he looked at himself in the murky bathroom mirror. His reflection looked back at him ruefully.

 

_ Well,  _ thought Emmanuel. 

 

He waited a few moments before stepping back into the kitchen and busied himself with making tea as he half-listened to Lem and Fero's conversation, their voices quiet as though they were sharing secrets. 

 

\--

 

Emmanuel had been a baker for much of his life, and was no stranger to a world of early mornings. Still, on the few days off he had, he did enjoy the small, simple luxury of lying in bed just a little longer than normal, listening to the sounds of the world around him as it woke for the day. 

 

He reached out in the bed only to find he was the only one in it. Emmanuel frowned blinking up at the ceiling. Now that he was more awake, he could hear the soft burble of Lem and Fero's voices from the kitchen. Lem laughed and he heard Fero's return cackle. Emmanuel smiled at the ceiling despite himself, then groaned, pulling the pillow from behind his head to muffle the sound. 

 

_ Oh you absolute fool,  _ thought Emmanuel,  _ you're in love with Fero too.  _

 

He wasn't quite sure if he meant Lem, or himself, or both. 

 

Either way, Emmanuel had never been one to leave a problem to solve itself. And especially not when the solution was so easily found. 

 

Emmanuel found himself distracted during the day, too focused on the conversation ahead of him to concentrate on the one Lem and Fero were trying to have with him in the present. Luckily they were easily left to their own devices, Lem helping hoist Fero up to the ceiling to patch a hole in the kitchen ceiling. 

 

As always, Fero trailed after them to the bedroom that night. This time however, as he turned to go, Emmanuel put a hand on his shoulder. He felt Fero tense under his hand. He hoped to Tristero he wasn't about to ruin things. 

 

“You know,” said Emmanuel, “you can always sleep here tonight.”

 

“Here with, uh, both of you?” said Fero, voice cracking. 

 

“Yes,” said Emmanuel simply. 

 

“I thought Lem--” began Fero. 

 

“I'm sure he wouldn't mind,” said Emmanuel, “right Lem?”

 

Lem’s cheeks were a deep green. “Um. Right?”

 

Emmanuel nodded and Lem, at least, relaxed a little. 

 

“I mean,” continued Lem, “You don't take up much room.”

 

Emmanuel felt Fero's shoulders slump. 

 

“Right, yeah,” said Fero, “I'm fine thanks, I don't need, like, pity space or whatever this is--”

 

He fell silent as Emmanuel crouched next to him. 

 

“That is not what this is,” said Emmanuel. 

 

He leant forward, pressing a soft kiss to Fero's lips. Fero gasped, his hands going to the front of Emmanuel's shirt. He didn't increase the pressure of the kiss, he just clung closer, his hands trembling where they gripped the fabric. 

 

Emmanuel pulled back. “Do you understand what I mean?”

 

Fero frowned. “I--but what about… ?”

 

He looked up at Lem. Emmanuel gestured him forwards, tangling their hands together and gently tugging Lem down next to them. 

 

“Lem too,” said Emmanuel. He swallowed hard. “I know the bed’s not that large but I think we can make it work, if you'd both like to try.”

 

Lem bit his lip, nodding. Emmanuel shifted, moving himself and Fero a little closer to Lem. He leaned up, pressing a kiss to Lem’s lips. When he finally pulled back, he could feel Fero's heart beating fast where he was pressed against Emmanuel's side, his cheeks a bright and pretty pink. 

 

Emmanuel licked his lips, tilting his head at Fero. “Well.”

 

“Oh,” breathed Lem. 

 

Lem had to duck a little further and Fero had to lean up a little more for them to reach each other, but the moment they did Fero made a soft sound, his small hands coming up to grip Lem’s shoulders. Emmanuel kept a hand on Fero’s waist, sliding his hands under the fabric in a way that made Fero gasp into Lem's mouth. 

 

They leant back from each other, panting for a moment before they looked over at Emmanuel. 

 

“Are we all now on the same page?” said Emmanuel. 

 

Fero grinned, leaning up towards Emmanuel. “Absolutely.”

 

\--

 

When Emmanuel padded into the kitchen the next morning, he caught sight of the plant. Small white flowers were just beginning to open under the moonlight. Emmanuel smiled down at it, brushing a finger along the rim of the pot.

 

“Yes,” said Emmanuel, “I know exactly how you feel.”

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on twitter or tumblr: mariusperkins


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